An Educational Afternoon
by Mosteyn
Summary: Post S3 AU: Tom, Sybil and their daughter visit Mary and Matthew one summer weekend shortly after Mary has announced she is expecting. An unexpected shopping trip gives Matthew some practice looking after a baby...


**A/N**: Just wanted to thank BelleLitteraire for her valuable input and for reminding me to post this !

* * *

It was a perfect English summer's day, warm without being too hot, sunny but with a pleasant breeze. Matthew and Tom were enjoying their coffee on the terrace outside the morning room, from where they could see the park open up into a wide, shimmering vista past the cedars. It was like a scene from a Jane Austen novel - not that either of them were thinking that at the moment, engrossed as they were in a discussion of the latest labour laws going through parliament and having a good natured argument about what it would do for the economy. It was a pleasant way to spend a Saturday afternoon, although Tom knew that soon he would need to sit down and go through the notes for his latest article. But not just yet.

Sybil, Tom and the baby were staying with her sister and brother-in-law. Tom had been working long hours during the recent months, so they had not had the chance to visit Downton since the spring. Now, with Niamh at fourteen months old, Tom decided he needed a break so Sybil had suggested a visit to her sister whilst her parents were away visiting family in Scotland - especially as Mary had just revealed her good news - finally - finally she was pregnant. Sybil couldn't resist the chance to reverse their relationship and give her older sister the benefit of her experience.

Mary had taken Sybil up to see the room in their own apartments that they were turning into a nursery and show her what they planned to do. Sybil, whose nursery was effectively the smallest bedroom of the house they were renting in Manchester listened with a little scepticism as her sister described how they intended equipping it.

"You know, Mary - you'll probably end up never using half of the things you're telling me about. All you really need is a decent pram, a cot and plenty of nappies and baby clothes."

"Darling, I don't intend using any of them. They're for Nanny"

"So what are you going to do ? Just see the baby for an hour in the evening like Granny used to do ?"

"No, of course not. But Nanny and the nurserymaid will deal with the practical side of things. That way I can give the baby my time when he's clean and fed and rested"

"Fed ? you're not feeding the baby ?"

"No. My doctor says that bottle feeding is best"

Sybil raised an eyebrow but said nothing. She was aware it was the smart, modern thing to do, but she had been influenced by her mother- and sister-in-law and had wanted to feed her baby herself and had been very glad she did. And formula was an unnecessary expense.

"You will change and bathe them, though ?"

Mary looked at her as if she had gone mad.

"Of course not. That is why I have a nurserymaid !"

Sybil snorted. In her mind, her sister was going to be missing out on some of the best times with her baby. She and Tom actually fought over whose turn it was to give Niamh her bath. Her sister's idea of motherhood seemed rather clinical and, she thought, impractical.

"But you'll have to learn how to do it, Mary, because even with Nanny there will probably come a time when you will need to. What happens if Nanny is sick or has a day off or something ?"

Mary looked sceptical.

"Babies don't do things on a schedule. It's always good to be prepared."

Mary looked at her sister, the perfect picture of young motherhood with Niamh propped on her hip, looking sweet and clean in her little blue dress, fine blonde hair and an enormous pair of white frilly knickers. She supposed she wasn't surprised that Sybil had taken to motherhood like a duck to water. In some ways, she felt a little intimidated by her younger sister's competence. It appeared there was little Sybil couldn't turn her hand to. The less she saw of her sister, the more she came to realise how well suited she and Tom Branson really were. They both just got on with things.

"Well, maybe. We'll see when he or she arrives," said her sister, not wanting to get into a discussion of the practicalities of parenting. "But I do want to ask you about the baby clothes…..I have some pictures here….."

Then Sybil had an idea. Smiling broadly, she said

"Why don't we go into Ripon ? We could look at what they have in Lewis's and then have tea in Betty's. It will be just like when we used to go with Mama."

"With Niamh ?" Mary said dubiously

"Oh, Tom can look after Niamh for a few hours. You'd like that, wouldn't you, gorgeous ? Spend some time with Daddy ?"

Niamh looked round for her father

"Yes ! Spend the afternoon with Daddy and Uncle Matthew… ! I'm sure Matthew could do with the practice" she joked, smiling at her sister.

* * *

The plan made, Mary asked Carson to order the motor and they gathered their gloves and hats. Then as the car arrived at the front, they walked round to the terrace to give their husbands the good news.

The first Tom knew of it was his daughter being dropped into his lap.

"Mary and I are going into Ripon, so you'll have to look after your daughter for a few hours"

Tom looked up with surprise.

"You didn't say anything about going into Ripon. When did you decide that ?"

"Just now. Mary wants to look at clothes for the baby."

"It's not due for another six months !" he said

"And I need a new hat."

"What ? What's wrong with the hats you already have?! Look, Sybil, I need to work this afternoon…."

"We won't be long. Now you be good for Daddy, sweetheart" she said, kissing her daughter on the forehead and doing the same to her husband

"You always take _hours_ when you go to Ripon with one of your sisters ! Sybil !" but she'd already turned on her heels and was walking back to where Mary was waiting by the car.

"Sybil ! I've got work to do !"

"You can do it when we get back !" she called

He twisted round in the seat to look behind him

"SYBIL ! For goodness sake ! Oh no….sorry, sorry sweetheart…" he said, as Niamh objected to being jostled and had started to cry "Just make sure you come straight back when you're finished ! And don't even _think_ of going to Betty's and drinking tea all afternoon !"

"Don't give Niamh any biscuits !" was her parting shot as she closed the car door and it moved smoothly off down the drive.

Tom had stood up and was looking at the retreating vehicle somewhat forlornly, holding a toddler who was now wailing for her Mama at the top of her voice.

Tom looked at Matthew, who had been grinning all the way through that exchange.

"It's not funny," he said crossly, trying to soothe his daughter. "This will be you in a year's time. Hush, sweetheart, it's alright….here, look what Daddy's got….." he reached over to the plate of biscuits on the table and broke one in half and presented it to the little girl. The noise stopped immediately as she grasped it with eager fingers, took a large bite and chewed, casually letting half on it fall out of her mouth onto her father's suit.

"Didn't Sybil just say…"

"What Sybil doesn't see, Sybil won't worry about," Tom said "there, that's better, isn't it ?" he said to the baby, who inspected the remnants of the biscuit carefully before cramming it in her mouth.

They resumed their earlier conversation, the baby seemingly happy to sit on her father's lap. But she was soon bored and started trying to wriggle out of his grasp.

"No, you don't, little one, you stay put," he said, clamping her in place with his forearm. "you're not getting down"

"Why not ?" asked Matthew. He knew Niamh could walk and he wondered why Tom wouldn't just let her toddle around the garden. But where Matthew saw a pleasant, if old-fashioned terrace, Tom saw a death trap for toddlers - stone steps she would fall down and hit her head on, gravel she would swallow and choke on and sharp stone edges at a toddler's head height.

"She's not very steady on her feet. I don't want her falling over and cracking her head on these flags. Sybil would have my guts for garters."

But the little girl was getting restless and starting to protest.

"Here," said Tom, inspiration striking "why don't you go and sit with Uncle Matthew ?"

"Ah, are you sure that's a …"

But before Matthew could protest Tom had unceremoniously dropped her on his lap. Matthew and Niamh looked at each other.

"Hello" said Matthew tentatively.

Niamh looked at her uncle as if he were an idiot. She decided ignore him completely and swivelled round to give her father a betrayed look before reaching out for Matthew's half empty coffee cup.

"No, you don't !" Matthew said instinctively, grabbing her hand and pulling it away.

Niamh looked outraged and started to wail again. Matthew panicked and looked up at Tom

"I think you'd better have her back. I don't think she likes me"

Tom sighed.

"Let's put her on the grass."

He picked her up and walked over to the immaculate lawn.

"Here you go, you little hooligan"

He placed the baby on her feet and she stood for a while, surveying her new surroundings before stomping off a little way to investigate. Tom stood and watched her, his hands stuffed into his pockets.

Matthew realised his attention was riveted on his daughter and got up to join him.

"She's a determined little thing." he said

"She knows her own mind, that's for sure," Tom replied. "Takes after her mother" he added with a wry smile.

Matthew smiled.

"So she's a Crawley at heart ?"

"God, another Crawley woman. That's all we need….."

At this point, Niamh spotted one of the kitchen cats in the bushes surrounding the lawn. She pointed and babbled something that was unintelligible to Matthew, and showing a surprising turn of speed, toddled off in its direction.

"Oh no !" said her father, jogging behind her, "no you don't ! You leave that poor creature alone !" He caught her up and swept her up into his arms and then over his head, making her giggle.

Matthew watched with amusement as Tom then proceeded to swing her over his head and throw her in the air, catching her deftly, then tickle her as she squirmed in his arms, all the while keeping up constant stream of nonsense. His brother-in-law seemed very comfortable with fatherhood, he thought, just as Sybil seemed to have slipped into motherhood as if it were made for her. He liked the idea of being a father and had been very keen to have a baby, but he was beginning to realise that he'd never really thought about the reality of it. He tried to see himself behaving as the Irishman was now, swinging his own child over his head, making them squeal with delight, but the thought made him feel rather anxious. What did one say to a child that couldn't give you an intelligible answer ? He couldn't see himself keeping up a running commentary as Tom was doing. When he'd thought of being a father, he'd pictured taking his children to school, or playing cricket or some other outing - he'd blithely assumed that he wouldn't be expected to play much of a part in his children's lives before they could talk to him. It was different for his brother-in-law, he supposed - no doubt as part of some large Irish extended family, he was used to babies.

He made the mistake of saying as much to Tom. He realised as soon as he had said it that he'd made a crass misjudgement. Tom just looked at him, slightly disappointed, as if he expected better from Matthew.

"Not really," he said rather flatly "my sister has two boys, but they were born when I was in England so I didn't really know them when we went back. My brother's not married. I had a few cousins growing up, but all but one of them were older than me."

Matthew looked at him, shamefaced.

"You just seem so good with her, I just thought…."

"That we Catholics all breed like rabbits ?" his brother-in-law said, rather tartly.

Matthew blushed.

"I shouldn't have assumed…."

"Yes, well, people assume a lot of things when you're Irish" said Tom, feeling slightly ashamed of himself for jumping down Matthew's throat. He knew Matthew hadn't meant anything by it.

"I'm sorry,….'

Tom just shrugged

"It doesn't matter," he said, which somehow made Matthew feel worse.

There was an uncomfortable silence.

"You know, I look at you with her and I just can't imagine myself ..." Matthew gestured helplessly, trying to move on.

"Whyever not ?"

"Well look at what happened just now. Your daughter clearly thinks I'm an imbecile"

Tom laughed at this.

"She looks at everyone like that. You should see the looks she gives his Lordship."

Matthew smiled ruefully.

"She's right though - I am an idiot when it comes to babies."

Tom just looked at him and that familiar smirk made its way across his lips.

"Here you go then. Now you be nice to Uncle Matthew, Niamh, he's new to all this….."

Matthew hesitated, looking at the child dubiously.

"Go on - she doesn't bite. At least - Sybil's not mentioned it…"

Matthew took the little girl and balanced her on his hip as he'd seen Tom do, and was surprised to feel her clamp her small legs around his body. She was still obviously not impressed with his performance, but she wasn't bawling, which, he supposed, what a step in the right direction. He tried again

"Hello there, Niamh"

She looked at him dubiously, but seemed quite content.

"See," said Tom, "its not so difficult. And its easier with your own. And I'm guessing you'll have nursemaids and a nanny to help out."

"Mary's dealing with all that. I'm keeping out of it."

"Sybil thinks its a shame to have nursery maids. She says that the first few months with Niamh were hard, but she wouldn't have missed them for the world. Not that we could have afforded one anyway," he said wryly . "Although," he admitted "its nice being able to put her in the nursery here and have a decent nights sleep…" amongst other things, he thought to himself, smiling at the memory. Their visit earlier in the year had been like a second honeymoon and definitely worth her mother's amused "I told you so" look when Sybil said that yes, she would take up her offer of a nurserymaid for the week.

"Mary's not Sybil," Matthew commented, shifting the baby a little in his arms. She was staring at something over his shoulder. He looked round, but couldn't see what had grabbed her attention.

"How do you know what she wants ? When she can't speak to you ?"

Tom shrugged.

"You just do…she can say a few words and it won't be long now before she starts talking properly - but she understands what you say to her….." he tapped the baby on the shoulder and she span round to look at him.

"Where's Niamh ?" he asked her brightly. She smiled and pointed to herself.

"Where's…Uncle Matthew ?" She patted the arm that Matthew was holding her with. For some reason Matthew felt ridiculously pleased that she knew him by name.

"Where's….your nose ?" She giggled, enjoying this game and grasped her nose between her thumb and forefinger, pulling it over to one side.

"Clever girl ! " said Tom proudly, stroking her head as she basked in her father's approval.

The mixture of love and pride written across Tom's face as he looked on his daughter made Matthew impatient to experience the same thing. He held his niece a little tighter, feeling the warm little body cling to him for support and wondered whether his own son or daughter would feel the same.

* * *

Mary watched, slightly horrified as Sybil swiftly loaded a scone that was already liberally spread with cream with rather too much jam. Then, rather than cutting it in two, she simply picked it up and took a bite, surreptitiously licking a bit of jam from the corner of her mouth.

"Darling, your table manners have become positively working class"

Sybil rolled her eyes dismissively.

"Honestly, Mary, who's here to see ?"

Mary said nothing, but broke her own slice of cake into bite size pieces before taking a sip of tea.

Sybil finished her scone and dabbed her mouth gently with her napkin.

"Anyway, you haven't really told me how you've been ?"

Mary smiled.

"I feel fine now. I felt a little sick and very tired last month, but it seems to have passed. And all my clothes are getting tighter, so it feels like its really happening"

Sybil smiled.

"How's Matthew dealing with it ?"

"I think he was rather stunned at first - it took a while to sink in that he's finally going to be a father after wanting it for so long. But now it has, I think he's rather anxious about it"

"And how's he dealing with _you _?" she said rather mischievously

Mary looked up, sensing her sister was alluding something not quite suitable for discussion at afternoon tea in Betty's.

"I don't know what you mean" she said evenly.

"Oh, you know, the tiredness, the mood swings, the cravings…."

"Well, I've not starting waking up in the middle of the night wanting chutney, if that's what you mean"

"I wasn't talking about _food_," her sister said significantly

"Sybil ! Honestly …" Mary looked round quickly to see if any of the patrons had heard her sisters scandalous remark. Her sister was evidently enjoying her discomfort.

"You know, I was awful to Tom when I was pregnant. I was so changeable - especially at the beginning - and at the end when I was tired. He just didn't know what to do. I remember sitting on the bed crying my eyes out for absolutely no reason and he just looked so bewildered…." she smiled fondly, remembering, "he was a saint really…."

Mary raised an eyebrow; she'd come to like and respect her brother-in-law, but she wouldn't have included saintliness in a list of his qualities.

"I suppose I've got all that to come," said Mary, a little apprehensively.

"It's not easy going, sometimes, for either of you," Sybil said honestly. She looked down at her plate, toying with her knife a little "but hopefully he'll know what to expect this time" she said softly, almost to herself.

Mary looked up to find her sister smiling the small, self satisfied smile that she wore when she was particularly pleased about the way something had worked out. Mary's eyes widened.

"Sybil ? Are you…"

She gave a small nod.

"I think I may be….its far to early to be certain - I haven't even started feeling sick yet…..but please, I've not told anyone else, not even Tom…"

"Why not ?"

"I don't want him to be disappointed if I'm not"

"But I thought you wanted to go back to work ?"

"If I'm not expecting, I will. If I am, then I'll go back after the baby is weaned. Doris can mind the children whilst I'm at work, she's perfectly capable and she said she wouldn't mind"

"Doris ?"

"Our maid of all work. She's a darling - I'd be lost without her."

"But even with….Doris, how on earth will you manage two children without a nanny ?" Mary asked, worried for her little sister.

"People do, Mary" was her prosaic reply

"Not our kind of people," Mary said, shuddering inwardly at being shackled to looking after a toddler and a baby.

Sybil just looked irritated.

"Who exactly are our people, Mary ?"

Her sister just rolled her eyes in exasperation. She hadn't intended lighting Sybil's blue touch paper.

"Anyway," said Sybil, "I'm not even sure if I am one of our people. Tom definitely isn't."

"You seemed very happy to leave Niamh with him today," she said, trying to be conciliatory.

"He's very good with her. And he's completely besotted," she laughed, "but he doesn't get a great deal of time with her on his own, so it seemed like a good opportunity." So, thought Mary, I could tell Sybil wasn't really interested in a new hat. "Especially if it kept him away from his article for another couple of hours. But," she sighed, "we really should be getting back soon. He has got a lot to do."

"I thought he was supposed to be taking a break ?"

"Well, he is in that he doesn't have a deadline at the moment. But things are so complicated and happen so quickly that he can't ever really switch off. Especially now, with the truce and the peace negotiations. I don't know how he does it," she said with obvious admiration, "he explains it to me, and some of it is so subtle I wouldn't have grasped it if he hadn't pointed it out for me. He really is very clever…." she said, her pride evident in the way her eyes shone.

Mary nodded. She'd learnt over the last two years that her brother-in-law was a very intelligent and eloquent man, talents that would have gone unnoticed if he had continued as their chauffeur. How had Sybil seen it, she wondered, when no-one else in the family had ? How her sister came to fall for this man was still a mystery to her, and, she supposed, it always would be.

They paid their bill and Mary gathered up a large number of slim, stiff paper bags containing items of baby clothing carefully wrapped in tissue paper, whilst Sybil grasped her one small purchase - a new tie for Tom, part of her unending war with his wardrobe - and they walked back to where the chauffeur was waiting with the car.

"I think Matthew will be a good father," Sybil mused as they drove back.

"I think so too," said her sister "although I think he's terribly worried about it"

* * *

Matthew and Tom had gravitated to the lawn. Tom was stretched out on his back in just his shirtsleeves, his jacket discarded on the grass. Matthew sat beside him with his elbows on his knees, watching his niece sat on the ground, playing with her father's key fob. She got up and offered it to him, holding it at arms length.

"Thank you," he said, taking it.

Niamh stood there with her arm still outstretched.

"She wants you to give them back," said Tom, his hands behind his head, eyes closed.

Matthew offered the little girl the fob, which she grabbed and promptly sat down with.

They sat in a more companionable silence with just the sound of the baby amusing herself, when Matthew suddenly looked up and ran his hand through his hair.

"How do you know what to do ?" he asked

"What ?" asked Tom, mystified by his brother-in-law's sudden change of mood.

"To be a good father….." he sighed. "I know nothing about being a father. My own father died when I was twelve. I've got nothing to go on."

Tom frowned.

"Yes you have. Lord Grantham thinks of you as a son. He's brought up three daughters so he must know something about fatherhood."

"I'm not sure I want to be the same sort of father as Robert, much as I've come to love him." He gave another exasperated sigh. "I'm not even sure about what sort of father I do want to be…"

Tom propped himself up on his elbows and raised an eyebrow at his brother-in-law in a slightly derisory fashion.

"Does it never occur to you that you think about things too much ?"

"What ?"

Tom sighed

"You Crawleys - you all think about things far too much. Apart from Lord Grantham, who doesn't think about things enough….."

"I don't know what you mean"

"Sybil was exactly the same before Niamh was born - worried about being a good mother, that she wouldn't know what to do, that she didn't want to be like her parents - but once Niamh was born she was so busy _being_ a mother that it came naturally to her and she found she knew exactly what to do. And she's a wonderful mother," he said with great pride in his voice.

"She certainly seems to enjoy it"

"Its the same with being a father. When the baby's here, you don't have time to worry about it - you're too busy doing it. The details sort themselves out"

"I wish I had your confidence in that," said Matthew ruefully

"They will," his brother-in-law assured him. "Look, my father died when I was fourteen, so I've not a lot to go on either. But you do what you think is best and it works out. Trust me," he said, smiling, "Look at Niamh - she's happy and healthy - what more can you ask for as a father ?"

Not for the first time, Matthew found him envying his brother-in-law's uncomplicated view of life and wondered why he found it so difficult to be the same.

By the time the car drew up in front of the house, Sybil was itching to see her daughter again. She always felt like this when she wasn't with Niamh - the first few hours she would enjoy, revelling in adult conversation and the freedom to think her own thoughts, but after a while her thoughts would always return to her daughter. She wondered what she has been doing with Tom and if truth be told, she was beginning to feel a little left out, despite the fact that she had engineered their time together in the first place. She jumped out of the car and instead of following her sister into the house, she walked round to the terrace. Mary, who had been speaking to her, noticed her disappear and followed her.

Sybil smiled broadly at the scene that met her eyes. Tom and Matthew on the lawn, Tom with the baby seated on his chest, Matthew sat watching with an amused grin on his face. Mary simply raised an eyebrow and wondered what Moseley was going to have to say about the grass stains on Matthew's pale linen suit.

Sybil hurried over and swooped the baby off of her husband's chest before Niamh noticed she was there.

"Mama !"

"Hello darling, did you have a nice time with Daddy ?"

The baby was smiling as if she'd not seen her mother for days. Sybil covered her in kisses.

"What about me ?" said Tom plaintively, not moving from the ground "don't I get one ?"

Mary watched Sybil put her daughter down and flop next to her husband, grinning and lean over to kiss him. She herself remained standing, forcing Matthew to get up and dust the grass off the seat of his trousers before he greeted his wife with a kiss.

"Where's this new hat ?"

"Oh, I didn't see anything I liked"

"So the entire journey was a waste of time, then."

"No, I bought you a new tie"

"Oh, thank you…did I need a new tie ?" he asked, a little bewildered.

"Yes. Most of your ties are awful and they don't go with any of your suits" Sybil had finally decided that honesty was the best policy in the delicate question of her husband's drab and largely ill-fitting wardrobe.

He took it surprisingly well. Matthew and Mary just smirked at each other. Tom and Sybil pulled themselves up off the grass and sat down at the small table, as Alfred brought out some tea.

Tea was interrupted by Niamh getting restless and hungry, so Sybil decided to take her upstairs. It was the cue for Tom to resume his work. Mary watched her sister walk briskly back into the morning room with her daughter on her hip, closely followed by her husband.

"What's wrong with my ties ?" she heard him ask, as he followed his wife inside. But Sybil's answer was swallowed up by the room. There was no Irish explosion, so she assumed that Sybil must have navigated that particular delicate situation gracefully.

She turned to Matthew, who was looking surprisingly contented.

"What are you smiling about ?" she asked.

"I've just realised I am looking forward to having a baby," he said,


End file.
